Two hours later, they reached the county town.
Shen Song felt like he'd been shaken to pieces.
When he finally climbed down from the ox cart, he nearly lost his footing and fell. Luckily, someone beside him steadied him—but by the time he turned to offer his thanks, the person was already gone.
The cart driver said the ox cart would wait here for two hours before heading back, so anyone wanting a ride home needed to return within that time.
During his days here, Shen Song had figured out how time was reckoned.
He hurried to ask people where the nearest medicine hall was.
Walking and asking his way along, Shen Song never found the medicine hall, but he did hear a commotion unlike the usual cries of hawkers and the bustle of crowd chatter.
More and more people pressed in, and Shen Song was squeezed until he couldn't move. The burlap sack in his hands was jostled back and forth, nearly slipping from his grasp. He could only hoist the sack up, trying to get out of the crowd.
But Shen Song didn't manage to get away—he was too thin, too weak. Even with a supernatural ability, there was no way to truly fix a body that had been severely malnourished from childhood in a short time. Squeezed painfully by the crowd, Shen Song felt as if he were suffocating.
Several horse-drawn carriages came down the broad road, with a swarm of guards in front and behind.
From the whispered mutterings of people nearby, Shen Song learned this was the new county magistrate of Lanxi.
Someone from some kind of “persimmon” family—a very powerful family, apparently.
Shen Song was bewildered. Weren't persimmons for eating? Had the ancient texts he'd read been wrong?
Right or wrong, as Shen Song watched the crowds and the carriages passing before his eyes, all he could think was how beautifully those carriages were made—there was even carved ornamentation.
The horses were so tall, so sturdy too.
He didn't just want to buy an ox now—he wanted to buy a horse, wanted a carriage like that.
He'd buy one for everyone in his family.
Shen Song was gazing at the carriages, lost in his daydream, when someone knocked the sack right out of his hands.
The Five-Step Viper tumbled out of the sack, causing an enormous commotion.
The crowd, terrified at the sight of the snake, scrambled to flee, screaming shrilly, pressing together more frantically than before.
The horses, startled by the sudden screams and chaos, reared and neighed. If the drivers hadn't reined them in tightly, they would have bolted long ago.
Shen Song hadn't expected this. He hurried to find the snake.
He'd heard it was deadly venomous—that its bite could kill.
This time, because the crowd was scattering in all directions, Shen Song managed to get out.
The carriage in the middle of the procession looked far more beautiful than the others, and the horse pulling it was taller than the rest, with a steady temperament.
While the other horses either paced back and forth or neighed incessantly, this one stood calmly in place, showing no unnecessary reaction.
Inside the carriage were two people.
The person seated in the place of honor wore magnificent brocade robes of misty blue-grey, with a face of lush, striking beauty. A faint cold sweat beaded on his brow as he sat with eyes closed, gathering his spirit.
His long lashes trembled slightly, as if he were enduring some pain. Then, at a faint stir, his eyes snapped open—and in those jet-black pupils there was nothing but coldness.
The man's hand shot out swiftly, seizing the snake that had slithered in through the carriage window firmly by the back of its head. Before it could struggle, it was crushed.
The triangular head drooping, the snake was flung out the window.
Shen Song saw something fly out of the carriage window diagonally across from him—his snake!
He rushed forward immediately and picked up the snake that had fallen to the ground with a thud.
The snake showed no reaction at all. Dead as could be.
Shen Song felt rather sad. From what his uncle had implied, a dead snake wouldn't fetch much of a price.
He crouched on the ground, silently shedding tears.
The sickly young man in the misty blue-grey robes slightly raised his eyes.
A man in black sat by the window on the side. Catching the other's gaze, his handsome face turned absolutely foul, and he opened the window.
Something else came flying out of the carriage window, smacking Shen Song on the head.
He covered his head and looked over—the window was shut tight, but there was a silver-colored stone lying by his hand.
An impatient voice came from inside the window. "Take the snake money and go cry somewhere far away."
Shen Song froze for a moment before realizing the man was talking to him. Being scolded made him a little unhappy. He picked up the snake and stood, kicking the silver far away. "It was my fault the snake got loose, and it was your fault you threw a stone at me. I'm not going anywhere!"
The young man in black hadn't expected that instead of gratefully accepting the silver, the other would kick it away and call it a stone.
He snorted. "Do you have any idea how venomous that snake is? Letting a poisonous snake loose in a crowded market without watching it, and causing a horse stampede on top of that—if no one got trampled to death, that's the only reason. And you still have the nerve to cry!"
Shen Song clutched the dead snake and lowered his head.
He had been fuming with anger, but now he completely deflated.
It was his fault he hadn't held onto the snake…
The horses gradually calmed, and so did the crowd.
Before the convoy moved on, Shen Song said earnestly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been fierce. Did my snake bite you?"
Even though he hadn't let the snake out on purpose, it was still his snake.
It had gotten into someone else's carriage; it was only right for them to kill it in self-defense, and everything they said was fair too. Throwing a stone at him… that was wrong, but he figured he could forgive it.
Shen Song remembered Zhou Niandong saying this snake was extremely venomous, and he was a little afraid it might have bitten someone.
The young man in black by the window pushed it open and looked at Shen Song as if he were an idiot—a scrawny little fool, heaven knew how such a dunce had been raised.
"Little idiot, if it had bitten you, would anyone still be alive to talk to you?"
Shen Song frowned and looked up at the young man at the window. The mocking smile at the corner of the other's mouth hadn't faded, and his slightly downturned eyes carried a world-weary air.
He pressed his lips together and glared at the man with his big eyes. He wanted to curse too, but when he opened his mouth, he found he didn't know how.
His head was empty of words.
He did know Interstellar language, though.
Shen Song got so worked up his face turned red, but no curse would come out.
In the end, he simply cursed in Interstellar language.
The young man in black listened to the strange sounds, understanding nothing at all.
"What gibberish are you spouting?"
Shen Song gave a huff and said nothing, picked up his snake, and turned to leave.
The young man in black lowered the window and muttered with a frown, "That little idiot wasn't chanting a curse on me, was he?"
But as soon as he muttered it, he forgot the whole matter and asked the person leaning with closed eyes against the carriage wall, "This little delay cost us some time. How are you feeling? Want to take a pill to ease the pain?"
The young man in luxurious smoky-blue robes kept his eyes shut, his face pale, his lips pressed into a sharp line.
His voice was low and restrained. "No need."
"I know a Gu toxin flare-up is hard to bear. If you really can't stand it, don't force yourself to endure it. I may be a physician, but if the patient won't say where it hurts, I can't see everything." the young man in black reminded him.
This time, he got no answer.
So he fell silent too.
The crowd quieted, the horses calmed, and the convoy moved on.
Shen Song, who had already walked some distance away, was called back. The tall, burly man wore familiar clothes—he was one of the convoy's people.
"Silver from my master."
The man handed over the silver and immediately turned around, jogging back to the convoy before Shen Song could say a single word.
Shen Song found a stone called silver in his hand—the very one that had been kicked over to him earlier.
He searched through all his memories and had never seen this kind of stone before.
Thinking carefully about what that fierce-sounding person in the carriage had said—take the money and get lost.
Could this stone also be money?
Shen Song didn't know how much the stone in his hand was worth, but he figured it definitely wasn't worth more than copper coins.
He put away the stone called silver and set off to find a medicine hall again.
A quarter of an hour later, he finally arrived at the medicine hall.
The apprentice in the shop also helped with purchasing medicinal materials, and seeing it was a Five-Step Viper, he was somewhat pleased—but seeing that it was dead, he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.
The clerk asked how long the snake had been dead. Shen Song immediately said, "My snake just died not long ago."
The clerk examined the snake carefully. It indeed hadn't been dead long.
But no matter how recently it had died, it was still a dead snake, which wasn't worth the same as a live one.
"How about this—five hundred wen. If you're still willing to sell, we'll take it. A dead snake isn't much use; it can only be used to soak in wine."
Shen Song didn't really know the market price, but he thought five hundred wen was a lot.
All those wild greens had only sold for fifty wen.
Shen Song nodded immediately.
The clerk readily took out the copper coins, counted them in front of Shen Song, and strung them together with fine hemp rope.
The heavy copper coins in his hand made Shen Song so happy he bounced around several times.
He had earned money!
Humming a strange tune, Shen Song happily left the medicine hall, mulling over the idea of catching more snakes. Next time, he would definitely bring a live snake to sell.
He was sure to earn lots and lots of copper coins, hehe.
Shen Song walked along the street in high spirits, looking at this and that. Everything interested him, and precisely because everything interested him, he ended up buying nothing.
There were too many things, and he was afraid he wouldn't have enough money.
He had no concept of money—back in the Interstellar Era, his family was well-off, so he'd had no concept of it; here, he had no concept because he simply didn't understand it at all.
Without a concept of money, it was easy to lose control—buying whatever he wanted, and not feeling bad even if he spent it all. But Shen Song knew that his family needed money now, so he couldn't just do whatever pleased him.
Shen Song wandered back and forth in an alley.
He had clearly been retracing his route, but he seemed to have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and now he was lost.
Five people had been following him the whole time, and Shen Song could sense it.
"Why are you following me?" Shen Song turned around and asked directly.
The five men laughed out loud. This spot was remote with hardly anyone around—just the right place to make their move.
They had seen it on the street earlier: this ge’er's snake had been killed by a noble, and the noble had given him silver.
They had followed this ge’er all the way to the medicine hall, and he had come out with a huge string of copper coins.
Plus, he was a young ge’er all alone—a fat sheep through and through. If they didn't rob him, who would they rob?
Since they'd been discovered, the five didn't bother hiding. They didn't take a mere ge’er seriously at all. The leader sneered, "Hand over all the money on you, and we'll spare your life."
Shen Song had never been robbed by star pirates before, but after transmigrating, he was being robbed by people from ancient times.
He answered very simply, "I don't agree to give you my money."
Hearing Shen Song's words, the five men were stunned for a moment. Once they realized what he'd said, they all burst out laughing.
When they finished laughing, the leader said viciously, "Like I care whether you agree or not!"
The five men moved in to rob him. Shen Song felt his own arm—thin, without much flesh.
He couldn't beat them.
Then he wouldn't fight.
"AAAAAAAAAH—"
"Which heartless bastard dug such a deep pit!"
"Almost fell to my death, damn it!"
"Ahh, my hand!"
"My leg's gonna break!!! It hurts, ahhhh—"
Shen Song used his earth-element ability to open a hole right in the ground, then ran off as soon as he was done.
The five robbers had fallen badly, their miserable screams carrying far and wide. People soon came over, and everyone froze for a moment at the sight of the deep pit.
These five were notorious hooligans and thugs in the area—bullying the old and the weak, stealing and robbing, doing it all.
They were regulars at the yamen's jail. It wasn't that the yamen didn't care; it was just that after being locked up so many times, the five knew the whole routine inside out and had become too slippery to catch.
There were only so many constables, and the county had plenty of work to do—they couldn't spend all day watching these five. As a result, households around where these five lurked were often burglarized.
As the crowd gathered, someone recognized them and hurried off to report to the authorities.
Their faces were all on the wanted posters—reporting them meant a reward.
By the time the constables arrived, pulled the men out of the pit, and hauled them away, everyone was staring at the deep pit. This alley was secluded and rarely traveled, but loud shouts could be heard from outside. When had someone dug this pit? Dug it this deep as a trap?
Whatever it was, heaven had eyes—the five had fallen into the pit and gotten caught.
Their neighborhood could finally have some peace.
In the streets and markets, gossip traveled fastest.
Shen Song finally found the ox cart, which was about to leave. He hurried over and, once aboard, heard an unfamiliar auntie talking about how someone had found five wanted criminals in a pit and collected the reward money.
Listening the whole way, he finally confirmed it was the same five who had robbed him.
He pondered.
Next time he ran into people like that, he'd capture them and send them to that whatever-it-was office.
Money could be made!
At the entrance of a residence in the county town, the occupant of the carved carriage still hadn't stepped out.
The young man in black looked at the sleeping person and couldn't help raising an eyebrow, finding it strange.
During the previous five days when the Gu toxin flared up, Xie Zhiyu had never once managed to sleep.
Today was only the second day of the Gu toxin's flare-up, and yet he had actually fallen… asleep?